


survive the night

by blatherskite



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1986429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blatherskite/pseuds/blatherskite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new government has taken over Japan, and for fourteen hours one day a year, there is to be a purge where any and all crime, including the murder of other civilians is legal. Aomine thinks about how he would do anything in the world to give Kise a better life, and how he would go against anything and everything to keep him safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So last night I took my sister to see The Purge: Anarchy and I spent the entire time thinking about AoKise. Whoops.

_24 hours before commencement of the annual Purge_

Tokyo at night has changed since Aomine’s youth. The buildings have grown taller, the lights brighter, the people more active and lively. Japan in general has changed a great deal, too. Six years earlier, a new power rose in Japan; said power took over and stripped the country of it’s government, putting in place an oligarchy. This government – the Oligarchy of Japan – is ruled by the “new emperors,” a wealthy group of individuals that took down the what seemed set-in-stone constitutional monarchy.

Prior to the new government, there had been a steady decline of the crime rate in Japan, plummeting with each passing year. However, the day the Oligarchy was put in place, there was a standstill in crime completely; everyone was nervously anticipating what was to come. The next day, and the days following, the rate continued decreasing. Japan, to other countries, seemed to be becoming a more open and safe place to live. However, this continuing decrease in crime was because of one established event.

Every year for fourteen hours, there is to be an annual purge. During this time, any and all crime, including the murder of other civilians, is legal. It is a time where some people find their calling, hooting and hollering out the windows of beaten up vans waving guns in the air like a declaration of war, whereas others cower in their homes, windows and doors bordered up in hopes to survive the night.

It’s seven in the afternoon when Aomine finally unlocks the door to his apartment and steps in. It had been a long day at the station; there were nonstop arrests of early purgers – people who thought they could get a head start on their fun. Aomine was exhausted as he quietly closed the door, back pressed to it as his arms fell to his sides. From somewhere within the apartment, he could hear the shuffling of slippers against a carpeted floor, and when a familiar head of bright blond hair peeked around the corner, he was instantly put at ease.

Kise rounds the corner, and Aomine is quick to push away from the door and meet him halfway. There’s a limp in Kise’s step that causes Aomine to hold back a wince whenever he sees it. Ever since their high school days, Kise had been having knee problems. They had gotten better as the years passed, but during his last semester at university when he was going all out in his last basketball match, only thirty-six seconds separating him and victory, he ended up with a blown knee – a tearing of his ACL, MCL, and lateral meniscus.

The accompanying surgery to treat the terrible triad, along with the follow up physical therapy, had completely dried his bank account which at one point contained a healthy sum from saving up his modeling money. After university, Kise had dreams of attending aviation school to become a pilot, but since the incident, there was nothing left to do but survive.

Aomine meets Kise halfway as he steps through the apartment, lifting him off the ground and nuzzling his nose into the crown of golden hair. He inhales sharply, taking in Kise’s citrus-scented shampoo before carrying him over to the couch. It’s a habit to sit down with his boyfriend in his lap, pull his legs across his thigh, and mindless massage Kise’s knee. Aomine’s fingers are gentle as they caress the other’s silky skin.

“Daiki, I’ve told you before that you don’t need to carry me,” Kise whines as he rests his head against Aomine’s shoulder; Aomine turns his head to kiss the top of Kise’s, hoping it’ll be enough to silence him on the matter.

“You know I hate seeing you like that, though,” he retorts quietly, wanting to bask in the moment of having his boyfriend close after a stressful day.

“I _know_ ,” Kise emphasizes, given that every day it’s the same routine again and again, “I should be able to walk around my own apartment though. It’s been, what? Two years now since I’ve had the surgery? I’m fine. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“Yeah, but… I should be able to pick up and carry my boyfriend to the couch without question,” Aomine shoots back, and it’s enough to finally get Kise to silence.

It’s quiet in their apartment, the only sounds being the ticking of their wall clock that hangs above the TV opposite the couch, and the voices of noisy civilians outside. Aomine and Kise don’t live in the wealthiest neighborhood in Tokyo, nor do they live anywhere near it. Given Kise’s lack of funds and Aomine’s working to support the both of them, they live humbly in a single bedroom apartment with a kitchen, bathroom, and small living area. It’s not much, but it’s home and it’s all theirs.

Given that Aomine’s a police officer, he has been granted special protection from the purgers. Inch thick steel barriers have been installed to slide down at the press of a button and cover their windows and door. It’s not much, but it’s been enough to keep them safe the past couple of years since Aomine had joined the force.

Kise is completely against the idea of the purge, while Aomine appreciates the fact that it “gets rid of the whackos so he doesn’t have to worry about them.” However, with that in mind, there has been a decrease in the need for new police officers given the fact that there’s a decline in crime. It puts Aomine’s job on the line, but seeing as he goes in every day and works his ass off, he’s one of their most prized officers, and he thinks it’d be stupid to let him go.

For a few more minutes, Aomine and Kise sit on the couch in silence. Aomine continues to mindlessly massage Kise’s knee, while Kise stares at the opposite wall; both appear to tune out the world until their TV automatically flashes to life, displaying the news station with an enlarged countdown signaling that there is merely twenty-four hours left until commencement. From their position, Aomine can feel Kise holding his breath, and with the arm wrapped around his body, he rubs comforting circles against his back.

“Breathe, Ryouta,” he says, voice low and soothing as he feels Kise’s back beginning to rise once again. “Breathe, and you’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be just fine. We’ve survived five years of this already, and we’ll survive another. You know we will, and I know we will. There’s nothing to worry about.”

In the background, an electronic sounding woman’s voice repeats directions that have been implanted in the minds of nearly one-hundred and fifty million people. They all know the rules. This is nothing new. If anything, it serves as an adrenaline boost for those participating. From down the hall, a cheer can be heard that causes Kise’s steady breathing to falter again. Aomine returns to murmuring soothing words in his boyfriend’s ear, telling him that he’ll survive – that _they’ll_ survive, and that soon enough, they’ll leave this now miserable country and move someplace new, welcoming, and above all else, _safe_.

 

* * *

 

After Aomine works on calming Kise down, the two separate: Kise returns to their bedroom to take a much needed nap while Aomine heads out to buy enough groceries and necessities to last the fourteen hour time period that’s quickly approaching.

 _Twenty-two hours left_ , Aomine thinks as he folds into the driver’s seat of his car ad starting it up, pulling out of his spot and out of the lot. The drive is quick, considering there’s a small convenience store down the street that sells just about anything anyone could need last minute. When he parks and steps inside, he notices that a majority of the shelves are bare, and there are seemingly endless lines at the dual registers.

Picking up a basket, Aomine heads down a nearby aisle, pulling anything and everything he can find that would be necessary into it. By the time he’s finished hunting down things he needs, he heads for the line, biting the inside of his cheek at the fact that it’s still nearly twenty people long. Every few minutes, the lines will shuffle forward a few inches before coming to a standstill once more. It’s frustrating, because all Aomine wants is to get back home and hold Kise in his arms for the night and fall asleep peacefully one last time before commencement.

An hour passes by the time Aomine’s groceries are bagged and he’s back in his car, arguing with himself about how shitty the service was, but deep down part of him understands. All of these people are scared. They’re the poor, _he’s_ the poor… _Kise’s the poor._ They’re the ones that are normally targeted and killed, because not only do the wealthy pay good money for a sickly civilian or a homeless man on the street, but ridding of the poor helps improve the economy as well – effectively, the wealthy are the ones gaining from this disturbing holiday.

When Aomine finally returns home, Kise is fast asleep in bed. With quiet feel, Aomine shuffles to the kitchen where he unbags the few groceries he scavenged and places them in a bare cabinet. It’s sad in a sense, looking into empty cabinets and a desolate fridge. He used to be able to provide so much, but now… They’re barely making it by. Sighing, he crumbles up the paper bag which had contained his groceries before dropping a pack of batteries into a drawer containing flashlights, candles, and lighters.

Before heading into the bedroom himself, Aomine plops back down on the couch and reaches for the remote, turning the TV on and instantly clicking away from the new channel counting down until commencement of the purge. Twenty-one hours. The number resonates in his suddenly blank mind; dead eyes stare at the changing pictures on the screen before him as he begins thinking of the previous purges. The increase of hunting gangs in the area. The decrease in population…

The next thing Aomine knows, it’s midnight and his eyes are beginning to crust shut from how tired he is. In six hours, he’ll be up and getting ready for another day at the station; later on though, the other officers will be jittery and anticipating getting home. None of them participate in the purge. They’ve seen enough bloodshed and violence to last their lives. They’ll want to get out and get home to their families and loved ones as soon as possible. They’ll want to wait out the event; some will probably sleep through it, some will probably sit across from their front door with a gun in hand… Some will probably lose it.

It’s all a part of who they are now, as people and as a country. They’ve been driven mad, all of them. With that thought weighing down on Aomine, he stands from the couch after flicking the TV off. For a few moments, he stands in total darkness, staring off into nothingness as he thinks about everything ranging from work to Kise to life. His heart is either racing or has stopped altogether, he can’t tell. All he knows is that he feels worn down and exhausted, and his bed is calling his name. So, he carries himself slowly towards the bedroom where he crawls into bed beside his sleeping boyfriend.

He doesn’t bother changing, too tired to do anything but wrap an arm around Kise’s waist and burrow his nose into his soft golden hair. Kise’s developed a habit of setting the bedside alarm for Aomine, seeing as he himself is too lazy to do such a minute task, so Aomine falls asleep moments later, no longer worrying about anything in particular. His mind wanders in his comatose state, thinking about Kise and how much he loves him. He also thinks about how he would do anything in the world to give the male asleep in his arms a better life, and how he would go against anything and everything to keep him safe.

When Aomine finally falls asleep, there are eighteen and a half hours until commencement of the annual Purge.


	2. Chapter 2

_13 hours before commencement of the annual Purge_

The six hours of sleep Aomine managed before the alarm behind him began buzzing didn’t settle his exhaustion in the least. It felt as if he closed his eyes, and the second he drifted off the sun was peeking up from behind the curtains telling him to _get up, it’s almost time._ Stiffly, he pulls his dead arm from Kise’s waist and mindlessly presses a kiss to the crown of his head before rolling over and standing from the bed. His legs haven’t gotten the memo to wake up yet, and his brain still feels a little fuzzy, so he stands in place for a few seconds, swaying back and forth with his eyes closed as if he’s trying to fight sleep. Finally, his body feels functional enough to walk to the bathroom and stumble into the shower.

The water is cold against his face, and it’s enough to send him jumping into the back wall. Swearing under his breath, he holds his head and huffs before reaching out with one hand to turn the dial until the water is more bearable. With his other hand, he rubs at the tender spot forming on the back of his head, wincing before moving forward to wash up. Aomine’s showers have lessened in time since starting his job at the station. Prior to becoming an officer, he used to stand in the shower, forehead against the wall as he let the warm water rush over his shoulders and down his back, gently pulling him from sleep. After, everything felt rushed – the waking up, the showering, the eating, the driving, the catching bad guys. He no longer lives the simple, carefree life he used to… Then again, no one these days really does.

When he’s finished with his shower, he steps out and dries off with a damp towel that was hanging out of the hamper. Neither of them seemed to have had the energy to do the laundry lately, so they’re down to their last towel, not that Aomine really cares. Unable to find it in him to complain about it or blame Kise, Aomine wanders back into the bedroom where Kise’s lying on his back staring at the ceiling. He looks so peaceful, Aomine thinks as he walks over and notices that Kise’s hands are folded over his stomach. A small smile tugs at his lips as Kise’s head shifts to look at him, and the blond’s lips curve upwards in response.

“Morning,” Aomine says in a hushed tone, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over to pepper a kiss against Kise’s forehead.

“Mm, mornin’,” Kise hums back, lids lowering as his neck raises to lean closer to his boyfriend. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept, alright,” Aomine confirms before standing once more and approaching their wardrobe to pull out a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. From the bottom drawer, he grabs a pair of briefs and shimmies into them with Kise’s eyes boring into his back. “How about you?” he proceeds to ask as he sticks his arms through the holes of his shirt and draws it over his head. “You sleep alright and everything?”

With a stifled yawn and a soft groan as he pushes himself into a sitting position, Kise bobs his head and swings his legs over the bed prior to standing up. His toes curl against the worn out carpet covering the floor, before shuffling over to wrap his arms around Aomine’s waist. He presses his forehead to the crook of Aomine’s neck and shivers as a droplet of shower water dribbles off the tip of Aomine’s hair and onto Kise’s scalp. Kise tries curling further into him, as if by some luck he’ll fuse with his boyfriend, keeping him from having to leave.

Aomine already knows what’s on Kise’s mind without him having to say anything. It’s the same thing he had pleaded for the past few years, voice broken and hoarse sounding, tears welling in his eyes –

“ _Please_ , just stay home today.”

A sigh pulls itself from Aomine’s lips as his fingers gently caress the arms wrapped around him before curling around the limbs and prying them off. Kise’s head raises from it’s spot, and peers up at Aomine’s face as he turns around. There’s a smile on his lips, but Kise can tell it’s fake; his heart feels like it’s shattering slowly, as if it were to take one more blow, it would crumble completely.

“You know I have to go, Ryouta. It’s only for a few hours. I’ll be home in no time,” Aomine assures him with a light flick to the forehead. It’s harmless, but Kise flinches as if it stung like a bee. Seeing his boyfriend like this causes Aomine’s heart to falter, along with his smile. He knows well enough that Kise hates this day, and that he hates the fact that Aomine has to be out there. There’s no helping it though; they need the money. They both know this, and they’ve both accepted it – Aomine having accepted it more than Kise.

Kise whines in protest before Aomine leans in to claim his lips. The kiss is soft and loving, and it makes Aomine feel like he’s floating; kissing Kise had always made him feel like he was going to blast off any second, and if it weren’t for Kise’s fingers curled into his shirt he’d probably do just that.

“But why can’t you stay home just this one time. This year. My knee hasn’t been feeling that great lately,” he admits with a pink face, obviously embarrassed by having stated such a thing to Aomine. “My knee aches, and…” he then pauses, swallowing over a growing lump in his throat – swallowing what little pride he has left, “It hurts, and I’m _scared_.”

Aomine’s heart feels like it’s the one shattering as Kise admits his fright. Protectively, Aomine reaches out and wraps his arms tight around Kise’s figure, holding him close. His jaw clenches when the vibrations of Kise’s shaking form hit him, and he finds himself inhaling deeply through his nose. He has to be the strong one here. He has to be brave. He has to protect Kise, something he promised himself years ago.

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he says, voice soothing like it had been the previous night when they sat on the couch. “I’m scared, too. We’ll be fine though, I promise. We always are, remember? How many years have we gotten through this? All of them, right? What’s going to be any different this year?” He finishes with an airy chuckle, hoping that it will dissolve the bad tension building in the room.

“What if something _does_ happen though? What if this year is different?”

“If that’s the case, then I’m going to be here to protect you, Ryouta. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I know everything’s terrifying, but we’ll get through this together, okay? Don’t think about it too much, you might give yourself a headache.”

Kise replies by scoffing and turning his head, and Aomine presses a multitude of kisses to his exposed temple, reveling in the moment of having Kise in his arms safe and sound.

They eat breakfast a few minutes later in relative silence. The TV is on again in the background, countdown ticking away on the screen as the robotic woman’s voice fills the apartment once again. When Aomine finishes and gets up to leave, Kise’s eyes are fixed on the plate before him, fingers gripping tightly at the chopsticks in his hands. Aomine notices his knuckles turning white and that he’s biting his lip, small things he’s picked up on since they’ve started dating… Small things that let him know that Kise is still nervous. He refrains from sighing as he rounds the table and squats beside Kise.

“Hey,” he begins, voice gentle when he reaches out and pulls Kise’s hands into his lap so he can hold them. Kise drops the chopsticks, one landing between his thighs and the other hitting the ground by his slippered foot. “Ryouta, look at me,” he orders, waiting for Kise to obey before giving him a smile and squeezing his hand. “I’ll be back in no time, stop worrying.”

Easier said than done, really, but with that, Kise caves and sighs, though his heart still aches and feels like it’s on the verge of collapsing. It’s enough confirmation for Aomine to know that Kise’s accepted his words, so when he releases his hands and kisses the corner of his mouth one last time before heading out to work, he knows he’s trusted. Kise trusts him enough to let him go out there, that he knows he'll protect him and keep him safe.

_That he knows he’ll come back._

When Aomine rushes down the stairs and hops in his car, there are twelve hours until commencement of the annual purge

 

* * *

 

_5 hours until commencement of the annual Purge_

After getting off work, Aomine hurries to his car and pulls out of the lot before any of his fellow officers can do the same. The traffic is bumper to bumper as people try getting home or out of the city, someplace quieter and safer to wait out the night. Civilians travel hours away to stay with family and loved ones, hoping that _tonight won’t be the night it all ends_. All the radio stations are the same – all have been taken over by the government to countdown to commencement. It’s eerie and unsettling, hearing that same drone voice that had been coming from the TV, come out of his car’s speakers, so Aomine’s turns it off. For the last few hours, he wants to bask in peace. He doesn’t want to worry. He doesn’t want to _panic_ , or have second thoughts.

It takes nearly an hour and a half to get home after work, and when he enters the apartment, Kise’s sitting on the couch watching the TV. There are already cameras streaming the streets of Tokyo, and given the amount of technology there is, it’s bound to stream every nook and cranny of the metropolis for the entire fourteen hours.

Swallowing, Aomine walks over and grabs the remote from Kise’s hand to turn the TV off. Kise seems unphased as he raises his head to look at Aomine, and Aomine sighs before sinking into a cushion beside him.

“Don’t watch that stuff, Ryouta. It won’t do you any good,” he says as he instinctively reaches out and pulls Kise’s legs across his lap so he can work on massaging his knee. It’s not only comforting to Kise, he realizes as he counts his breathes during the time his fingers are working over the soft skin; it’s comforting to him as well. He enjoys caring for Kise, and enjoys knowing Kise likes it too, though he’s not as vocal about it lately.

“Thanks,” Kise eventually mutters before closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch. “It’s almost time,” he says, lids still shut as he works on his breathing, something he learned during physical therapy to help relax him. His knee is shaking beneath Aomine’s fingers, and it causes Aomine’s brow to knit in worry. _Is Kise truly going to be alright?_

They make small talk after that. Aomine tells Kise about all the lunatics that had been brought in that day, about how they’re all locked down and the jail has been boarded up so none of them can get out, and no one can get in. Since they’re already criminals, there’s no need for them to participate in the annual event. They’ve ruined their chances by trying to get a head start.

Kise eventually falls silent again as Aomine says he has to get ready. There are three hours left until commencement, and there’s still a lot to do. Kise’s eyes follow Aomine as he flicks on the lights before he lowers the barriers to cover the windows. It feels stuffy the second the last barrier is down, and Kise goes back to working on his breathing. In and out, slow and steady.

Aomine trudges into the bedroom where he pulls an empty duffel from beneath their bed along with a taped up box. Skillfully, Aomine tears the tape off and opens the flaps. Inside reside a few bottles of body paint, a couple of white masks with enlarged cheekbones, and a black hoodie. He dumps the contents into the duffel bag before heading towards the closet and pulling open the door. The closet is used for boxes of their belongings, save for a few jackets they hang in there when it’s not winter. From the back, behind a stack of boxes, Aomine pulls another duffel bag. A grunt passes his lips as he pulls it out, having forgotten just how heavy it was; it’s been a year since he last needed it, anyway.

Pulling back the zipper, he reaches in and inspects the array of guns stowed away inside. They’re all still loaded, and there’s extra ammo tucked in there for good measure. He pulls one out – a small handgun, loaded and ready for use – before zipping the bag back up and dragging it across the carpet to the other. He picks them both up and slings them over his shoulder, inspecting the handgun in his palm one last time before stepping out.

Kise’s eyes are on him the second he walks out, and it causes his heart to drop to his stomach. He hates doing this to Kise, but he’s doing this _for_ Kise. Cautiously, he walks over and hands the gun over to his boyfriend, urging him to take it and standing still until he does.

“Take it,” he says, eyes set on Kise’s face, “Just in case.” When Kise finally does, Aomine squats before him like he had done earlier that day, and holds his hands between his own.

Every other day of the year, Aomine works as a police officer for the metropolitan police department. He’s one of the best and takes his job seriously. It’s his pride, but it doesn’t bring in enough pay; not as much as he’d like at least.

That’s why on this night, the night of the annual purge, Aomine no longer roams the streets as an officer. Instead, he goes out as part of a hunting gang that captures the poor of Tokyo and brings them to the wealthy for pay. And _boy_ , do they pay well.

The wealthy have their own personal purge nights, where they buy the sick and dying civilians of Tokyo – martyrs, they’re called – that offer themselves up to the rich families for large sums of money that are then transferred to the martyr’s families. They’re taken to the households of the rich where they purge in the safety of their homes.

Aomine’s job, however, is to scope out the homeless, the unlucky, and the targeted, and to bring them to locked down buildings where they’re auctioned off to the highest bidders for their own purges behind boarded doors.

It makes him sick just thinking about it, because he too is one of those poor sons-of-bitches. He’s one of the unlucky, and so is Kise. He squeezes Kise’s hands tight before bringing them to his lips to kiss his knuckles.

“I’m going to come back tonight, Ryouta. Just like I have every other time. I’m going to come back, and you’re going to be safe, and I’m going to be safe, and then when this is over, we’re going to save up and we’re going to leave this place. We’ll go somewhere. Maybe we’ll go to Paris. I know you’ve always wanted to go there. Or maybe America. Someplace where we can start fresh and won’t have to worry about this insanity. I promise I’ll keep you safe, Ryouta. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Kise’s in tears by the time Aomine finishes, and it hurts him even more to see him like this. He hates seeing Kise cry, he always has. Watching Kise cry is the most painful thing to witness, because someone as happy and bright as Kise should never hurt, should never feel pain. Yet, he does. He suffers physically and mentally and emotionally, and sometimes Aomine feels as if he can’t do anything about it. But he’s going to try. He’s going to go out there, and he’s going to earn his pay, he’s going to come back unharmed, and he’s going to get himself and Kise out of here. It’s all he’s wanted since the New Emperors took over Japan.

Finally, Aomine releases Kise’s hands and swaps them for caressing his face. He holds Kise’s gaze for what feels like an eternity, and when he sees the corners of Kise’s mouth twitch upwards into a fragile smile, Aomine chuckles and leans forward to kiss it permanently on his face. He always wants to see Kise smile, it warms his heart and gives him life.

“Call Satsuki when I leave and tell her to stay safe for me, okay? Call your sisters, see if they can come over. Call Tetsu. They’re not too far away unless they got out of Tokyo for the night. Make sure you lock the door down when I leave. Don’t open it for anyone. Don’t go near it, don’t go near the windows until the fourteen hours are up. Don’t attract attention. Just lay low and keep to yourself. I’ll have my phone on me if you need me. Even if you need to just hear my voice for a minute. It’ll all be over before you know it, and we can move on.”

Aomine stands up after longingly pressing his lips to Kise’s, feeling as if his soul is being sucked right out of him by the blond himself. When they part, it’s hard to pull away. He wants nothing more than to stay there with Kise, to hold him in his arms all night and whisper into his hair and kiss his forehead and massage his knee. He wants to do all these things, but sometimes risks also have to be taken for those you love, and in order to survive. Kise’s hands are visibly shaking again as Aomine straightens up and heads towards the door, and it’s heartbreaking to see the tears slipping down his face and pit-pattering against his thigh.

“I love you, Ryouta. Stay safe.”

When Aomine walks out the door, there are three hours until commencement of the annual Purge.


	3. Chapter 3

_2 hours before commencement of the annual Purge_

Having left the apartment, Aomine drives to a run-down parking garage a few miles away. The streets of Tokyo are practically vacant, minus a few individuals that are desperately trying to get home before commencement. The billboards and buildings are still lit up like they are any other night, but this time… Everything feels different. It’s quiet – eerily so, and as Aomine steps out of his car parked beside a beat up white van, he shivers. He hates this night more than anything. The liveliness of Tokyo is gone and replaced with a grim overcast that is to last the entirety of fourteen hours.

The second he walks to the trunk and pops the lid to grab his bags, a hand comes down on his shoulder. It’s familiar: large and warm. Without even having to look up, Aomine scoffs and says, “You trying to scare me shitless, idiot Kagami?”

Kagami Taiga, one of Aomine and Kise’s best friend’s since their high school days. Another basketball junkie that did a one-eighty in life when everyone thought he was going to go pro and move back to America. Similar to Aomine, Kagami found a job working for the local fire department, his station located right down the street from Aomine’s. They’ve worked together on numerous occasions, friendship growing where people thought it would suffer from seeing each other all the time. Tonight is no exception. Over the past few years, Kagami has been joining Aomine on purge night in hopes to raise enough money to afford to pack up and ship himself and his belongings to America where his family is waiting for him.

“Is Tetsu still here?” Aomine asks as he closes the trunk of his car, placing both duffels on top. Casually, he pulls his t-shirt off and pulls the zipper to one of the bags so that he can reach in and pull out a few bottles of body paint. His gaze finds Kagami’s as he awaits an answer, and sighs when Kagami shakes his head.

“No, he took his parents and grandmother and headed for the country. It’s quiet out there this time of night. I think Momoi went with them, actually. He said something about how she wanted to stay with her parents, but he was persistent on bringing his wife along. He’s still shaken up, I guess. Doesn’t want to lose anyone else like he did that Ogiwara fellow last year,” Kagami finishes, watching as one of the other members pulls into a spot beside Aomine. A few words are exchanged between the red-head and the other individual before hands dance together, resembling a personal handshake, and Kagami turns his attention back to Aomine.

There’s an irate looking scowl on Aomine’s face that causes Kagami to snort and bite his tongue. Aomine’s thinking about Kise, and how he wishes he could have sent him with them – _at least Satsuki’s going to be safe_. It’s hurting him to have Kise at home alone and knowing he’s afraid. _Don’t think about it, Daiki. Just think about your job. He’ll be fine. You know he’ll be fine. You’ll be fine, too._

He’s pulled from his trance when Kagami begins waving a hand before his face, the corners of his lips quivering as he suppresses a bout of laughter.

“What’s wrong, airhead? Think too hard and snap a nerve?” he teases, finally laughing as Aomine swats his hand away.

Everyone falls quiet after that as they begin getting ready. Daily personas are dropped as purge night counterparts are awakened, having hibernated for the entirety of a year. T-shirts are shed as body paint decorates torsos and shoulders like a new skin. Those without masks to hide their identities cover their faces as well, metamorphosing into new people – into _creatures. Purgers._

A chilly breeze whistles through the nearly vacant garage, causing Aomine to slip into his hoodie faster than anticipated. The paint that had been applied to his torso smears in the process, causing him to huff before strapping his mask to his head. It’s long enough to cover his nose, but short enough to keep his mouth exposed. He’d tried wearing a complete mask one year, but it was far too stuffy for his liking.

From the back of the parked van, a pair of motorbikes are brought out. One of them, covered in bullet holes and duct tape, is Aomine’s ride for the night. The other, decked out in vibrant red paint and hand drawn tiger stripes, is Kagami’s. Aomine’s is black, as dark as the night consuming them. Along with his dark getup, he’ll turn invisible when he cruises along behind the leading van. However, before they can head out, everyone finishes getting ready as Kagami spit shines the fuel tank of his bike.

Aomine’s fingers subconsciously curl around the handle of his, tightening around the loose grip as he stares into the space ahead of him. He’s thinking about Kise again and how he can’t wait for this night end so he can rush back to their apartment and hold his boyfriend for as many hours as he’ll be spending without him.

When he’s pulled back to reality, it’s by Kagami wrapping his fingers around the back of his neck and forcibly tugging him into a group huddle. They’re planning out their course for the night: where they’re going, how they’re going about their business, who’s going to take one for the team if it comes down to it. Aomine’s feet begin fidgeting as he adjusts his weight from one to the other. The air surrounding their group is tense, so thick that one could take a machete from the supply in the back of the van and slice it in half.

They’re all the same, nervous and afraid, but they have to do this. They all have their reasons, most of whom prefer not to make public. Others are doing it just because they can. It’s their night, according to the New Emperors; it’s their night, and it’s their _right_ to purge. That’s all the reason some of them need. So, they take it and go with it.

As the huddle of men begins breaking up, a booming siren sounds in the distance, courtesy of the J-Alert warning system. Aomine’s heart leaps into his throat and he freezes in place.

It’s time.

_14 hours until the end of the annual Purge._

 

* * *

 

_This is not a test… commencement of the annual purge… any and all crime will be legal… fourteen hours…_

These words repeat in Kise’s head as the siren outside their apartment building rattles him to his core. He’s sitting on the couch, hunched over with his hands in his lap. His fingers are twined together, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping. He’s counting his breaths, eyes closed, as if staying focused like this will make the next fourteen hours (thirteen hours and fifty-eight minutes, precisely) go by in a flash. All he wants is Aomine back in his arms, safe.

There’s not much to do except breath… Breath, and try not to think about what’s going to be happening outside. Gunshots can already be heard from a block (two blocks?) away, and with each bullet that’s most likely passing through the body of some unfortunate individual, Kise cringes into himself, wanting to disappear and never return.

The gun Aomine had entrusted to him prior to his departure is placed meticulously beside his cell phone and the TV remote on the coffee table before the couch. Some people in their apartment have escaped from the city for the night; they’ve gone to stay with other family members where it’s safer. Some have even found sanctuary in the homes of their compassionate bosses where they’ll reside in the safety of the rich neighborhood for the night.

It all makes Kise feel more and more alone.

Unable to remain sitting in his spot, he pushes himself up from the couch and paces the perimeter of their apartment. It takes him a total of eighty-six steps around corners and over tattered rugs before he’s back in his original spot by the couch. He repeats… And again. A total of two-hundred and fifty-eight steps have been taken before the siren outside stops blaring. What accompanies it, is an eerie silence that is rare except for this night. This is the only night that the lively metropolis of Tokyo feels utterly dead.

A few lengthy minutes of standing before the couch with his eyes glued to the blank screen of the TV pass before Kise sinks into the cushion. He draws his legs up and lies down, lids closing tiredly as his body shuts down and tries to sleep through the remainder of the night.

Not all goes as planned though, because when he awakens and checks the clock across the way, he notices that it’s only been three hours. Rolling over, he tries to fall back asleep, but his mind is awake. His chest aches as he sits up, feet finding the carpeted floor as he stares down at the items placed on the table. Mindlessly, he reaches out and grabs hold of the remote.

His fingers are trembling as he contemplates turning it on. It’s tempting, but terrifying at the same time. _What if he sees Aomine out there? What if he sees someone he knows being murdered? What if he can’t stop watching? What if… By some chance, he sees what’s going on out there and realizes he wants to participate. He’d never liked his old acquaintance Haizaki Shougo that much…_

Despite these thoughts running rampant in his head, making him feel sick again, his thumb mindlessly clicks the power button and the screen flashes to life opposite the blond. As expected, there are live feeds of the streets outside. A small timer sits in the bottom corner of the screen, displaying that there are now eleven hours and twenty-one minutes left until the purge is over. However, that’s not what grasps Kise’s attention. Just above the countdown in the corner of the screen, there is a small frail looking man being stabbed by numerous individuals. He looks to be wearing nothing more than ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt. From that alone and the location displayed in the upper corner of the TV, Kise can tell he’s one of the few remaining homeless people living off the streets. Most of them had been killed off during the last annual purge, but since then a few more individuals have lost their homes – their _lives_ – because of the new Oligarchy.

Something unpleasant begins churning in Kise’s stomach as he turns the channel to another feed showing a handful of people being pressed face first against a brick wall. The location tells him this is happening just a few blocks away. He can’t seem to tear his widened eyes from the screen as body after body drops to the ground, blood pooling around them from successful headshots courtesy of the purgers.

He feels as if he’s going to faint.

Rapidly, he flicks through the channels faster, eyes shooting back and forth trying to capture all the action in the second it’s on the screen. On one channel, there’s a female running from a couple of guys with machetes, on another there’s what appears to be a father covering a small boy from a group of masked men wielding guns. He’s about to turn the TV off when he notices something on the last channel he stops on. There’s something familiar about the building pictured on the screen, and when he leans closer to get a better look, he realizes it’s _his_ apartment. Nothing seems too out of place, so it calms his nerves a little. However, as he’s about to press the power button, he sees the headlights of a rather large vehicle popping up in the distance.

Kise’s breath catches in his throat as he watches a large truck slow down and park in front of their building. From the back of the truck, several people dressed up in all black uniforms with helmets and large weapons hop out and run for the rear of the apartment. Just as the last of them dashes off the screen, the feed switches to another street a few blocks over. It’s calmer there, Kise realizes before turning the TV off.

_Nothing’s going to happen, right?_

He sits there quietly, tuning anything and everything out until he hears it. From a few floors below, a door is being blown in and a stampede of feet rattle the entire building. Grabbing the gun on the table along with his phone, Kise stumbles into their bedroom, locking the door behind him and making his way towards the closet where he crawls behind the stack of boxes Aomine had rifled through earlier.

His heart is racing as he shakily dials Aomine’s number with one hand and presses the phone to his ear. The ringing that welcomes him causes his stomach to churn even more.

 

* * *

 

It’s routine for Kagami to shoot people out of hiding and for Aomine to corner them and scare them shitless into the back of their van. From a close proximity, Kagami watches as Aomine threatens a terrified male at gunpoint. Aomine’s face is scrunched up, his features full of rage. It feels like no time has passed at all, and they still have a lot of people to capture and plenty of ground to cover. They’ve already delivered one round of victims to the auction house and took in 100,000 yen each. With each successful delivery, the amount is supposed to increase so Aomine’s focused on doing his job to the best of his ability.

Though he looks like a vicious, hungry animal on the outside, his heart feels like it’s caving on the inside. He doesn’t enjoy this – none of them do, really – and he never will. He’s only doing this for Kise, and the post-guilt he’s going to feel the next day and for the next few _weeks_ will eat at him constantly, reminding him that he’s no better than the others.

When the male he had been threatening finally climbs into the back of their van, the phone Aomine has pressed to his thigh begins vibrating. Kagami’s eyes are still on him as Aomine pulls the device from his pocket and sighs as he sees Kise’s name pop up on the screen.

“I gotta take this quickly,” he says as he flips the device open and presses it to his ear. “Hey, baby. What’s –“

Before he can even finish asking why Kise had called, he can hear the panicked whimpers and restrained breathing coming from the other line. His entire body chills, leaving him feeling ice cold as he swallows over the lump in his throat. Something’s happening. He knows it.

“Ryouta. Ryouta? What’s going on. Hey, Ryouta! What is it?” he asks, trying not to sound frantic seeing as he needs to work on keeping his boyfriend calm at the same time, a feat easier said than done in some cases.

Kagami’s eyes are still on him, only this time they’re wide and full of worry as Aomine pushes the mask off his face and lets it fall to the concrete beneath their feet.

“Ryouta!” he hisses into the phone one last time, biting his tongue in order to relax himself before asking again, “What’s going on?”

“There’s an army,” he hears Kise say. His voice is weak and fragile sounding, and Aomine knows he’s trying hard not to cry or sound scared. “They’ve invaded the building.”

When Aomine looks at Kagami and receives a nod of confirmation, he hops on his bike and drives off. There are eleven hours left until the end of the annual Purge.


End file.
